What a Slayer Wants and What a Slayer Gets
by Jennifer - Squint By Nature
Summary: After the fall of Sunnydale, the scoobies travel to L.A to set up Slayer Central. My season 8, Oz didn't leave in S4, Coredelia woke up from her coma at the end of ATS S4. Doesn't strictly follow ATS 5. Spuffy.
1. The End of Something

Tears fell freely like rain drops down window panes. Beautiful emerald eyes looked like glass under water spilling and streaking down her pale skin, landing on her hands which sat shaking in her lap. As much as she tried she could not will the treacherous tears from falling. If he could see her now, well, he'd be ashamed; say she was stronger than this, that the tears that threatened to drown her showed weakness and surrender. She was ashamed of herself. Hadn't she been through so much? Hadn't she learned that showing weakness was giving into it? Of course things were different now; he was gone for a start. Her anchor, the only thing that tied her to this strained and heart numbing existence. Those beautiful blue eyes that communicated what words alone could not. Those arms that held her and told her everything would be alright. Her rock. Her world. And then he was gone.

Of course, she hadn't always thought like this. There was a time when his death would've just been another day's work, and the pile of ash that he left on this earth would be just that. Ash. But since then things had changed, lines got blurry and she'd been to place far beyond anyone's comprehension. Left in the dark all alone, with no _real _connection to humanity in her heart, he was her shining beacon of hope. Thinking of those times and her memories of him just made the tears fall heavier and faster. Maybe- Maybe if she'd seen the good in him earlier let him in sooner she'd have had more time with him. Maybe he wouldn't have died at all. But it didn't matter now did it? He was gone, and nothing would change that.

"B-Buffy?"

The voice shook her from her thoughts and brought her back to the now. The yellow bus had came to stop, she vaguely recognised her surroundings as somewhere in LA, outside an old styled hotel with the name 'Hyperion' just barely legible on the sign. The place looked abandoned.

Seeing Willow standing over her with a concerned look on her face, made her remember her tear stained state. She stood up quickly, hastily wiping away the tears.

She glanced back at the hotel again. "You're sure this is where Angel is?

"Completely" She nodded, "We better hope he's home, a lot of the slayers need serious medical attention, not to mention Robin."

Looking around, Buffy remembered all the hurt slayers, most just had cuts and scrapes that would heal quickly thanks to slayer healing but other had pretty deep cuts that needed bandages and supplies they just didn't have. Robin Wood was doing worst of all, with no super powers for help his gut wound was causing him to fade fast.

"Let's the get them inside, quick."

It was strange, seeing the hotel so empty. In fact it hadn't been this bare since they'd first moved in. Despite all mayhem and destruction the Hyperion had seen, to Angel and his team it was home, and it'd always felt like it. The front desk had been swept clean, the business cards etc in a box. Fred and Wesley were working hard behind the desk trying to sort out all their old case files and what they were going to do with them while Gunn covered the furniture. Cordelia, still reeling from her mystical coma was upstairs keeping busy with packing _everyone's _rooms- protesting that she'd been asleep long enough for anyone. Angel simply sat on the stairs, watching it all. He was still putting off getting together his possessions to take to Wolfram and Hart the next day. Wolfram and Hart… Since he'd returned from Sunny Dale a couple of hours ago all he could think about was whether he was making the right choice or not, taking on the hub of corporate hell was no mean feat. Was he doing the right, the _best _thing for him and his team? Or would they be better off staying –

The vampire's train of thought was broken off by the sound of the front doors banging open. A small blonde woman stood there looking around. Her greens eyes searched the faces in the room, all stunned by her entrance, until they landed on his. Her mouth twisted into a half-smile.

"How's that second front coming?"

"Buffy?" He choked out her name.

"_That's _Buffy? Damn I-"

Gunn was cut off by a rush of voices bursting through the doors. Faith and Xander were supporting a tall, dark man with a bleeding wound in his stomach. Willow walked swiftly behind him, a concerned look on her face.

"Buffy!" Said Xander urgently, "He's fading. Fast."

The atmosphere in the room changed drastically from surprise and curiosity as everyone leaped into action- seeing the crisis.

Gunn ran up to help Faith and Xander lay the injured guy on the sofa, which had not yet been covered, Fred ran upstairs to gather the first aid kits while Angel and Wesley went quickly over to Buffy and Willow to find what exactly was going on.

"How many are injured?" Asked Angel quickly, hoping they had enough supplies for all the injured.

"Most aren't too bad. Maybe four of five slayers are in the red."

"_Slayers?_"

The blonde gave him a sharp look.

"There's time for explanations later. Now is nobody-dies-time."

Soon enough, everyone was looking better. The slayers and scoobies had all found rooms. With a bit of healing magic none had died.

Buffy, Willow, Giles; Angel and Wesley were in Angel's office. No one sat down and shifted slightly as they discussed what to do next.

"So Sunny Dale's gone?" asked Wesley.

"Gone, as in one huge Sunny Dale shaped crater." Explained Buffy from her leaning position beside Angel's desk.

And- and all those girls out there," he nodded towards the window, "They're slayers?"

They nodded.

"Because of a spell Willow did with an ancient scythe no one's ever heard of. Correct?"

Again, they nodded.

Angel, who'd been standing silently by the doorway sinking in all the new information, spoke abruptly directing his question to Buffy but not looking up from the floor.

"So where's your champion?" He put heavy emphasis on the word _champion_.

Buffy felt the breath catch in her throat. With all the running about, looking after the injured she hadn't had time to think about Spike, in fact, she wondered how they'd made it through the re-telling of Sunny Dale's last apocalypse without mentioning his name. Her eyes were burning just thinking about those last minutes and suddenly it all played back in her head.

"_I Love you."_

"_No you don't love, but thanks for saying it." _

Did he really believe that? Or was he just trying to get her to leave? These were just the fore-front of all the questions she'd never get to ask, that she'd never get an answer to. Maybe- Maybe it was true what she'd told Angel down in the cemetery that night, that she wasn't done 'baking' and she probably wouldn't be for a while. But it didn't mean she didn't want him around, by her side. He'd been her strength for so, so long. _I'm not ready for you to not be here. _

Willow's hand on her shoulder shook her out of her own world and into Angel's office where concerned faces were all looking at her.

She pushed back the tears quickly. "Spike died." She said shortly.

"He's been dead for a long time," Ventured Wes, "Over 150 years."

She took a deep breath. "_Dead_, dead I mean. Ash in the wind."

Again, tear pricked at her eyes. The words were confident and emotionless but her face portrayed it all, her eyes told the whole story.

"He died to save the world."

"He wore the amulet," Angel said it like a question, Buffy nodded her agreement. "That's what destroyed Sunnydale?"

"I don't quite understand." Said Wesley looking from Angel to Buffy.

"I must admit, this amulet is as much as mystery to me as Spike's new soul."

"_Soul_?" asked Wesley, disbelief written all over his face, "Since when did William the _Bloody _have a soul?"

"September-ish." She said shortly

"Let me get this straight," he said shaking his said, as if to try and get the jumbled thoughts in order, "Spike has a soul."

They all nodded.

"And using an amulet, which Angel brought, he saved the world destroying Sunnydale in the process."

Again, they all nodded.

"He completely cleared out the hell mouth," Willow spoke up, "But he kind of took the rest of Sunnydale with him…"

"So," said Angel with a prominent frown on his face, "If I had worn that amulet…I would've died?"

"No." Buffy said shortly, fierceness a ghost in her voice.

"No?" Asked Willow, the concept of Spike living completely foreign to her.

"He could've survived." She said her voice shaking slightly. No one knew what'd happened in those last few minutes down in the hell mouth. She didn't want to share his _real _last words with anyone. In fact, she wished she hadn't heard them. "I guess- I guess he wanted to die a hero… A champion."

"I hate that word." Muttered Angel.


	2. Returning

Thank you for all of the reviews and favouriting you guys have done!

Here's chapter 2 so don't be a stranger and leave lots of reviews because I PROMISE the 'review' button will not blow up if you press it (well maybe, but that'd probably be your computers fault…).

Enjoy.

Pain.

Complete encompassing terrible pain settled in his old bones like a bad chill. It swallowed him, seeping into his brain so that it was all he could think about . There were no surroundings to him, just pain, just darkness and his own ear splitting scream. His skin sizzled and his eyes felt as if they were melting into skull, he was sure this pain only lead to death- and not the kind of death where you wake up hours later in a coffin with a burning desire for human blood.

And then it subsided.

He collapsed onto the floor in a heap breathing in great, deep gulps of air he didn't need and wondering how he could still be alive- or undead anyway. He didn't dare open his eyes, didn't want to. It was best to kept them closed so not to see wherever he was. Ignorance, in this case, could well be bliss.

What if I am dead? He asked himself quickly. Maybe this is heaven? He laughed a harsh laugh. Of course this wasn't heaven.

What had he done to deserve the pearly white gates? Sure he'd saved the world from Angelus but only because he wanted his girl back, and OK he'd fought against Glory but it wasn't like he'd done it for the sake of the good of the world was it? Plus, he had no idea what'd happened in the hell mouth.

Oh God. Buffy.

His whole head flooded with memories of her. Her face, her shampoo-commercial hair; the way she'd slept in his arms in the nights before the battle. Her final words down below the school basement that day when their hands had burst into flames-

"Open your eyes, vampire."

Something about the voice made him obey. He pulled his sore body off the ground and opened his eyes, blinking into the light of the white room with four non-descript walls and not much else. No one to be seen.

"What the bloody hell is this?" he asked spinning around trying to find the source of the voice.

"This is your reward. We will send you back to earth."

"Oh, well this is just perfect!" he said, angrily. "Let me guess. The Powers That bloody Be?"

"You have one chance, William."

Then it went dark again.

When he felt the ground beneath his feet this time he wasted no time in opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings.

He found himself in a completely dark room with, again, nothing in it but this time not even the walls were present.

A white, glistening light appeared practically blinding him as it formed into the shape of a young woman. This woman looked to be in her early-mid twenties with short dark hair and dark skin, her black leather coat looked very familiar to him but in the space of a few seconds he'd worked it out.

"Nikki Wood."

"Yeah, what's it been 30 years since you last saw me?"

"Something like that." He murmured, guilt building up in his chest and washing over him.

_Damn Soul. _

"I killed you."

"New York black out, 1970s. I remember you liking my coat," She gestured to his torso, he hadn't realised he was still wearing his customary black T-shirt, Jeans and his favourite leather duster. "But in this place, no ones _really _dead or alive.

"Right…" He looked around the room, eye brows arched, but the same four black walls remained unaffected, the only thing breaking up the darkness was Nikki's tall form. "Do me a favour love; explain to a bloke what the hell is going on"

"What do you think?" She asked, "We're sending you back."

He sighed. "I don't know about you and the 'Powers That Fuck Up' but normally when one dies, they don't go back."

"What's dead doesn't always stay dead, vamp boy." She smirked.

"Well I wasn't meant to this time," He yelled, his voice echoing loudly through the small space. He sighed; when he spoke again his voice was quieter, exhaustion flooding his voice and stance. His shoulders slumped, his head dipped to the floor and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Can't I just rest in peace?"

"Not this time," She walked over to the wall opposite. "You've still got some work to do but first," She clicked her fingers. "There are sometimes you need to see and _definitely _understand. Keep up."

The wall exploded into a kaleidoscope of colours, swirling in deep hazes of brightly coloured waves. He couldn't help but blink at the sudden burst of light that flooded the room. He watched dazed at the colours collided and bounced, creating a display of fireworks from nowhere on a screen that didn't exist.

"What…"

Suddenly the colours started to fade, get sharper until they were forming a picture on the screen, a picture of two people in a cave. The two people were a man and a woman, both blonde, the large cave-like structure was old looking, coming apart around them and the floor was covered with bodies- human and other wise. It took a few seconds for him to realise who the people were and that the man was him.

He breathed in a deep unneeded breath just as the picture began to move. The woman, he know knew was Buffy, moved towards him on the screen so that they were closer together.

"Go!" He heard his voice shout above the falling rock. He held up his hand, trying to urge her to leave but instead she put her hand to his and laced her fingers between his. Tears fell from her pretty emerald eyes, making her cheeks glisten where the tears had made tracks. It shocked them both when their joined hands burst into flames. He remembered his amazement as she smiled through her tears and the words that would come next would never leave him, ever.

"I love you." She said with the watery smile still on her face.

He dreaded what was to come next.

Without hesitation his 2D doppelganger said "No you don't love, but thanks for saying it." Buffy's face dropped as did their hands and with a lingering glance she ran up the rock stairs and out of sight.

"I want to see how it ends." He smirks.

The picture flickered.

This time it shows Buffy, scythe in hand, running through the falling building of Sunny Dale high school. The yellow school bus they had taken was already off in the distance but Buffy didn't stop. She ran through the wrecked, crashing streets of Sunny Dale, jumping onto building roof tops to escape the collapse.

"No…" He muttered quietly, he understood this must be some kind of memory and at that moment he was but a pile of ash down below the Sunny Dale basement, "She could possibly…"

The slayer jumped from building top to building top chasing after her friends and the school bus which took them swiftly away from danger. When it came to the end of town she jumped down onto the road and managed to jump onto the top of the bus, a tight grip on the sides of the bus. The bus sped through out onto the open road steering clear of Sunny Dale and into safely. When it stopped, Buffy jumped down from the bus as all the scoobies spilt out of the bus.

He let out a sharp breath he hadn't known he was holding when he saw the blonde hug her little sister and join the rest of the scoobies.

The image stopped moving.

"She-She's OK?" He whispered gently, still staring at his slayer.

Nikki Nodded.

"Tell me something," She said fixing him with her gaze, "Why did you deny what she said?"

He sucked in his cheeks. He knew he'd have to answer for that sooner or later. He'd hoped for later. The truth was he wasn't sure; sure he could've gone with her, ripped off the necklace and used his duster to guard him from the suns lethal rays, found a way of getting out of the collapsing town without burning. He could've believed her and hoped for a future with the girl he'd loved more than anything. But what if there wasn't a future? What if in the heat of the moment she had said the three words that she would later come to regret after things had settled down (or at least as settled as they ever were) and push him away, or worse keep him as her dirty little secret. Again. No, he thinks, he couldn't go through that again.

But he couldn't say any of this to the ghost of the woman he killed. "I didn't want to be the bleedin' reason she died for the third time, did I? I 'ad to get her out of there."

She nodded as if she knew it wasn't the whole truth but didn't press him.

"What happens now then?" He asked, rolling back his shoulders and trying to be more of his confident, cocky self.

"Now honey, you watch a montage of your most painful memories. Give that soul a work out."

He raised one dark eye brow at his guide, but she just shrugged and explained "Just following orders."

A huge gust of wind came from behind him, making his duster billow after him and tangle his loose blonde curls. It seemed to crash into the wall opposite like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore of a beach, frothing in anger. The wind mixed up the colours of the frozen image; they curled and twisted making new shapes of different people in a different place, again and again.

The images moved by quickly, each showing a different, important, part of his long life.

A fresh grave in a dark graveyard, he crawls out of his grave with bleeding fingers and a burning hunger. He felt sick watching it.

Looming down on his sickly mother with sharp fangs. His stomach lurched.

Being beaten by Angelus in some stately manor with dead bodies as audience. He felt like lashing out at the image.

Having the behaviour modification chip put in his brain. He balled his hands into fists.

Waking up, realising he was in love with his worst enemy. He didn't unclench his fists.

Buffy jumping from the tower into swirling portal that threatened to end the world. Her crumpled, dead body lying on the ground. He felt tears come to his eyes; he couldn't stop a couple spilling down his pale cheeks.

Then finally, the memory he'd dreaded most, the memory he'd tried so, so hard to suppress. He and Buffy sat on opposite sides of the bathroom floor, there are tears in her eyes and her robe is askew. There are bruises on her legs.

"Please," He begged Nikki, "I can't see this, can't take it."

"Why?" She asked. He assumed she meant _why did you do it? _ So he was shocked when she continued, "Why did you stop."

"She kicked me across the room." His voice was rough with raw emotion, but he couldn't give it all up.

"What and _that _stopped William the Bloody?"

"Didn't mean…" His voice cracked, he couldn't continue.

"What? It's not like it was the first time you'd done something like that was it? _Come on_! We both know you're capable. It's not like you really loved her! You didn't have a soul."

"SOULS!" He shouted, "What bloody difference do they make? I loved that girl with every fibre of my being. It hurt so much, just feeling for her. Just- just knowing that she felt nothing but hatred for me because I didn't have a soul like her darling Angel, because of what I was- am." He calmed down slightly, breathing hard, "I never wanted to hurt her and when I did, I didn't know what I was feeling, been such a long time since I regretted anything. I wanted to give her what she deserved, wanted to give her something better."

Nikki nodded. Her face was blank but she looked satisfied.

"Good," She said, "I hope you make use of the time you'll be given. And if you don't. Well, I'm sure that pretty slayer of yours has got a stake with your name on it."

It was too bright, Buffy thought sadly as she and Xander sat on the bed in her room, staring out the window.

_It shouldn't be this bright when death is still around_.

Sadness still encompassed everyone as they tried to set up some kind of operation at the Hyperion hotel. It was just slayers and scoobies since Team Angel had made the switch to Wolfram and Hart with the promise they would not turn evil, leaving Angel Investigations in their hands.

In the meantime, there were still girls to find and train from all over the world.

"I can't stay here," Xander said breaking the silence, "Well, not now at least. I need some time Buff. Without Anya… Everything's harder." Tears came to Xander's eyes, It broke Buffy's heart to see her friend in such pain but she knew how he felt.

"What are you going to do?" She asked quietly, she knew him being away would be hard, he was her strength but this time she had to be strong for him.

"Find girls- slayers. Maybe the travel will be good for me?"

She nodded. "Yeah," tears gathered in her eyes and she thought of how much crying she'd done in such a short space of time, "we're gonna miss you Xan."

"I'm gonna miss you guys too. You and Will, you're my family. I could never stay away from you guys for too long. I'll write, and call you'll never even notice I've gone."

She gave a small smile and rested her head on his shoulder as they started out over Los Angeles. Everything seemed so peaceful at that moment, just the two of them, staying in that moment for as long as they could hold onto it. They thought about all they'd lost so suddenly and were powerless to stop the faces of their lost loved ones floating through their heads.

"BUFFY!"

A loud cry from downstairs shattered their moment, making them both jump. Recovering quickly, they quickly made their way downstairs to where the whole inhabitancy of the hotel seemed to have converged in the lobby, circling the walls and creating a ring around a huge greyish light in the centre of the room. The Faded pentagram that stained the floor was lit up like a ring of fire.

Buffy and Xander made their way to where Willow, Oz and Dawn were standing together nearest the display. At first, the light was blinding but as they got nearer it was easy to see the light was forming into something human shaped.

"What the hell is going on?" Asked Xander.

"I-I don't know," Replied Willow, staring at the light as if willing it to give some kind of explanation, "We were just sitting down here and then BOOM, well not so much BOOM as ouch-my-eyes, but yeah big shiny thing." She never took her eyes off it.

"What should we do?" Dawn asked Buffy.

"I-" Buffy was cut off short by a sudden darkening in the room as the light went out as suddenly leaving the room in darkness with only the illuminated symbol the brightest thing in the room.

The light was gone leaving a dark figure in its place with strangely bright hair and no signs that it was alive, but everyone knew that was true.

Because everyone knew who it was.

"Spike?"


	3. Strange Occurrences

Notes:

I know it's been months and months since my last update but I've had some serious exams to endure and possibly the busiest few weeks of my life so I have had ZERO time to do any sort of writing. The Summer Holidays are coming up so you should find I'm more with the updating.

Enjoy.

LA shone, like always, in the black night sky that tried to penetrate the gleaming sky line of the sparkling city. Cars zoomed through the streets, buildings, lit up like Christmas trees and non stop night life buzzed through the city as if L.A itself were as glamorous as the people in it.

But on the other side of the city, in the places you don't hear about on TV or see in the movies there were no glittering lights. Barking dogs and car alarms broke up the night. Tattered people staggered through the streets with gaunt looks on their faces, it was clear the people hear had never felt the touch of fame or wealth.

A scream echoed through the streets but there were no alarms or reactions because that was common there.

A girl in her mid twenties ran through the streets, tears streaked her face and her legs were tired and sore but she didn't stop. The man chasing her was tall, dark haired and lean in build. His face, up close, was strangely deformed. He had raised arches, no eyes brows and his teeth were formed into sharp fangs. The man kept chasing her, he wasn't tired and it wasn't fright and survival instinct that kept him running, it was that burning hunger that never left him and the thrill of the chase. They came to an alley, dirty like the rest of them with spilt rubbish everywhere, a skin-and-bone cat among it scavenging for its life. The girl, blinded by her own tears, ran straight to the end and into the wall which closed off the path between buildings, consequently trapping her with nowhere to run.

Her scream echoed through the night, bouncing off the stone walls of the alley, the piercing sound brought a smile to the man's face.

"Please," she cried her tears shone on her pale face, "Please don't…"

The man slowed to a stroll, a grin on his deformed face. He slowly came towards her, looming down on her like a predator and giving her no where to run. Grasping her shoulders in an iron lock he bent down with his fangs poised above her neck, ready to strike.

The girl squeezed her eyes shut, knowing these would be her last moments and tomorrow her lifeless body would be found in the alley way where she'd died too young at the hands of a monster that wasn't human.

She felt the sharp tip of his deadly fangs graze the surface of her skin and blood pricked at the small wound. She gasped, but she never felt the white point with the power to end a person's life again. Instead, she heard the man-thing scream in pain and be torn away from her with force she could never posses and a loud bang as the man-thing landed on a dumpster.

She opened her eyes to find a young, blonde woman around the same age as her standing in the middle of the alley watching the thing for its next move.

"What-"The girl began in a small voice which caught the attention of the woman, who glanced at her quickly before turning back to the monster, now leering towards her.

"Get out of here!" Shouted the blonde woman without looking round, "Now!"

Her legs were still frozen in fear, anchoring her to the pavement which could possibly be her death bed.

"Go now!" The woman shouted with enough force in her voice to shake her out of her frightened trance. As soon as she regained control over her limbs she ran, racing past her would-be killer and the woman who saved her, still praying that wouldn't be the night she died.

She watched the girl run around the corner and out of site before she dealt with the un-dead annoyance in front of her. Still, it was good to get back to her roots.

_Finally _just _a vampire._

She was sure there was a time when chasing down vampires in graveyards and alley ways was simply a chore to be done regularly but now, what with battling Demon- human hybrids and Hell Gods as well as Über Vamps, it was nice to just kill a simple vampire, one that would go 'poof' with a piece of wood in its heart.

The vampire lunged at her, fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

"I'm going to rip you open little girl."

He lunged, griping her arm and shoulder with both hands and flipped her flat onto the ground. Buffy gathered her legs to her chest and sprung them out into the vampire's chest, sending him sprawling on the floor on the other side of the alley. She strolled towards him in a few long strides as the vamp got to his feet.

"You'll die slayer, if not by my hand then by the might of Tres. Tres Forever."

He laughed a dark, manic laugh but didn't move as Buffy came towards him, stake in hand. He didn't even try to put up resistance when her stake pierced his heart.

"It was weird."

Buffy paced around the lobby recounting her patrolling to Giles and Oz, the only two around to listen.

"This vamp is getting ready to munch down on this girl, all _'Grr I'm gonna rip your throat out' _and stuff and then when we start fighting he gets in one good move, I throw him across the alley and then he just stops fighting," She lid onto the front desk.

"You mean he ran from the fight?" Giles asked.

"No, I mean he just stood there and let me stake him."

"Suicidal vampire," Piped up Oz, looking up from his guitar "That some irony."

Buffy smiled at him shortly, his dry, quick humour a nice distraction. "Oh! Oh and before I dusted him he said something called 'Trest' would kill me or was it 'Tress'?"

"You mean Tres?" Asked Giles, Buffy nodded, "its Latin it means 'The Three'. I think I've read that somewhere before, I'll look into it but, Buffy." He removed his glasses and a handkerchief out his pocket and Buffy knew she was in trouble. "Don't you think maybe you want this to be something more than it is because, because you don't want to deal with Spike?"

Two days had passed since Spike had arrived in a bright wave of light mere feet from Buffy sat and she'd yet to even be in the same room as him. In a way, it was like an answered prayer, the week they'd be in L.A had been a constant struggle to keep her emotions inside and only let them out at night when she was alone in her room and she could cry her heart out to her pillow. She'd thought of confiding in Willow or Dawn but she wasn't ready to talk about it yet and everything was still a little edgy since those final days in Sunny Dale. However, in a small way she was grateful. Not only had she'd got the scythe, which now stood in Angel's- or rather their- weapons cabinet, but she finally realised the man Spike could be- was, she didn't see him as Vamp or a monster. She let him in.

But when he came back…

…Initially she was happy, delighted even, but then those few seconds past and her mind was suddenly clouded with confusion. She'd run up to her room, crying and feeling suffocated with the responsibility to work out her emotions and deal with the once again undead vampire. Xander had postponed leaving for another day to settle everything and Willow had automatically taken on the responsibility of looking after Spike, who still hadn't regained consciousness. Strangely, no one had said anything about the fact they didn't like or even trust Spike. But she knew it was a short reprieve. They'd finally realised that piling it on all at once would only make things worse for her. Buffy knew it wouldn't last forever.

As the slayer gathered her words she looked around the building that was now their home. The Hyperion hotel was beautiful. She wasn't entirely sure how Angel had ended up the owner of an abandoned hotel in which Giles said used to be the heart of Hollywood, but in a way it suited him as a person; the gorgeous towering outside of the building, concealing the haunted feel of the inside that maybe this once used to be a bad place. Plus, Angel loved wide open spaces.

"This has nothing to do with Spike." She swallowed and tried to shove away the images of the leather-clad, bleached-blonde vampire that managed to pull off a style that would've looked stupid on anyone else.

Giles sighed. "Buffy, I understand that you still harbour certain feelings for him and that his return must be, difficult, for you but-"

"But what Giles?" Buffy cut in sharply. "I should be sharpening a stake already?"

"What Spike did in the hell mouth was very… heroic… but do you think he would've done any of it if he didn't have feelings towards you? Protecting Dawn, Getting a soul? What would've happened if The First had started controlling Spike while he had no soul or was not under our eye? Do you think he would've wanted to stop?"

"Does it matter?" Buffy said loudly, "None of that stuff happened Giles so it's a non-issue! He's not even conscious at moment; he poses no threat to anyone!" She was _really _getting sick of his persistent for ending Spike. He had a soul, he was more ally than enemy now, and had been for a while.

"We don't even know if he has a soul now! God only knows where he's been since Sunnydale collapsed."

"He's chained to the bed he sleeps in. I-," She was tired of having he same fight with her watcher over and over again when so much had changed. He needed to accept that Spike wasn't going anywhere. She slipped of the desk and walked slowly towards the stairs. "Unless he _needs _killing, Spike's here to stay, I think you need to get used to that. He's a part of this now."

As she reached the second floor she looked back down at Giles who sat alone, Oz had followed her upstairs and was making his way to the room he and Will shared, she wondered how they'd gotten to this point.

Willow walked across the room and sat down in the chair beside the bed. She took out her book and turned on the lamp, with a quick glance the figure in the bed she began to read.

Like Giles, she loved books, always had and while computers were her forte in the way that musty old couldn't-translate-them-properly-if-she-tried books were Giles', there was something about an old fashioned leather- bound novel that one just could never find on the internet. Her copy of _The Modern Guide to ancient rune translation _lay in her lap as her blank eyes skimmed across the pages because right now, not even her interest in deciphering ancient messages could keep her concentration on the script before her. So much had happened in the past year or so and not much of it good. Last year when she'd thought that Warren Mears, a very dead and skinless wannabe- warlock, had killed Oz she'd gone all dark haired and vain-y, ready to destroy everything in her path to vengeance. The whole time she hadn't realised that it'd been a full moon and while the guitarist hadn't been all wolfed-out a single bullet hadn't been enough to kill him. She wished she'd found that out before trying to end the world.

The thought of the destruction and death she'd caused still haunted her sleep gave her restless nights and dreams that woke her up in a cold sweat but she assumed it was her punishment. She'd taken a human life (no matter how innocent) and not being able to rest was her punishment.

A gurgled noise came from the bed, "What the…" Said a cockney, yet somewhat soft, British accent.

Willow turned her attention towards the figure in the bed, now clad in a pair of jeans; the vampire tried to sit up but his restrictive chains held him to the bed.

The witch put down her book and sat and the other end of the bed, still cautious but safe in his shackled state.

"S'alright Red, no need to be scared of the chained down vamp, even though I'm starving as hell" He looked at her. "No pun intended. Where is this? Doesn't look like Sunny Dale."

"Yeah, L.A. looks nothing like Sunny Dale. Lack of a Hell Mouth for one thing." She quipped absently.

"Bloody Hell, L.A?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes went dark. "Wait, Angel. He's-She- What in the fucking world is going on?"

"This used to be Angel's, erm, 'Business' thing-y but his team moved over to this Law Firm called Wolfram and Hart." Said Willow, her voice level now she was sure he wasn't about the rip her throat out.

Spike nodded, well as much as one could when chained to a bed anyway. "'Sounds about right. Even with that poncy 'I'm so sad about all the evil things I did, I'm going to be a brooding hero of the people' attitude he's got going, it's not surprise he gave into the dark side eventually. What else can a bloke do when he's that _repressed_."

Willow opened her mouth to ask what he meant but her words died in her throat at the sound of a knock at the door.

Oz made his way down the dark 2nd floor hall way of the hotel and stopped short outside he and Willow's room remembering that she was probably in the room Spike was occupying.

With a swift knock on the door he opened it to reveal the red head sitting next to a chained up- but conscious- bleach blonde vampire.

"Oh, hey." Willow said with a smile.

"Spike." A swift nod past between the two men. "How's it going?"

"'Could be better if 'm honest. Being chained up just isn't as fun as I remember."

"I think I'm gonna unchain you." Willow said to Spike, fishing a key from the bed side table draw. "You just gotta promise not to eat anyone, okay?"

"Scouts honour." He smirked, watching as she busied herself, unlocking the chains.

"I think there's a butchers down the road where Angel used to get his blood, I'll go down there and get some."

"I'll come too." Oz said still hovering by the door.

"Just- stay in here until we give Buffy and everyone the heads up, okay?"

Spike rolled his shoulders. "Fine. But when you get back you better tell me what the bloody hell's going on."

The streets of California were dark. Not real 'pitch black' because even in the middle of the night LA was never truly dark at that time of year. But that didn't mean it was going to scare off all the nasty things that go bump under your bed.

Buffy the vampire slayer walked past nameless shops and buildings. Beautiful Spanish architecture looked slightly menacing in the dead of night. It almost reminded her of home.

She'd already been on patrol once tonight and suddenly the idea of being back in Revello Drive, soaking in a hot bubble bath and pretending for just a little while that she was a normal girl seemed like the best idea in the world, the thought brought tears to her eyes.

Still, she walked the streets, stake hidden up her jacket pocket just waiting for something to leap out and distract from the hard choices she would have to make. Yet. Again.

Nothing came. Her legs took her through LA which, like Sunnydale, could be called a extreme sport but perhaps for a difference reason. Still she welcomed the challenge of anything she could hit. She didn't want to think about Giles, or Spike, or Angel.

On the last word she stopped involuntarily outside an address which was not at all familiar. A pretty white apartment building which, like a lot of California, was dominated by Spanish style. She'd never seen it before in the time she'd spent in LA growing up or time since but something about it tugged at her as if it was something even vaguely familiar making her tired brain sit up and pay attention.

Then it hit her.

_(To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase) _Duh.

Cordelia.

When they'd first moved into the Hyperion and explained to everyone how there was suddenly a lack of a hell mouth and consequently, Sunnydale, Cordelia had taken Buffy aside and given her, her address inviting her over whenever she wanted.

It was mind blowing how much the ex- cheerleader had changed. The last time she'd seen Cordelia was when she'd dropped by to tell (read: scold) Angel for coming to Sunnydale and stalking her, again. But she hadn't really thought about her that much.

Now, she didn't even recognise this person. This twenty-something, vision bearing Cordelia was a whole new character entirely. But still Cordelia.

Buffy knew that people had changed a bunch since the times they walked the halls of the original Sunnydale High School five years ago. Amy was completely evil, Andrew had, had a stint as the world's worst evil sidekick, Willow had killed and Oz no longer changed every month. Of course these things were just the tip of the I'm-so-bad-ass-I-sunk-the-Titanic iceberg which had all but destroyed the people they were as teenagers.

But now looking at this grown up, selfless person Cordelia Chase, the girl who had ruled the school as effortlessly as she'd perfectly styled her hair every morning was a shock to the system. The real embodiment of everything that had changed since then. It was startling. Yet, of course, she still looked good.

Buffy moved over to the door of Cordelia's apartment and hovered before knocking, she wondered who'd be awake at this time of night and would actually welcome unannounced guests?

She knocked and waited. The sound of footsteps and muffled tones came from the interior of the apartment.

And then someone tall, dark and completely unexpected opened the door.

(**Did you know that every time you review this story you are **_that _**much closer to a box of chocolates being left suspiciously outside your front door?**).


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